


This Is for You

by Hesternal



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pity Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesternal/pseuds/Hesternal
Summary: Lemrina wants to do Slaine a favor. It turns out Slaine has the same idea towards her... and she isn't sure she likes it.





	This Is for You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my tumblr about a month after Aldnoah.Zero ended. Three years later, I’m still not over that ending. These two deserved so much better.

Slaine asked by pressing his lips to her knee and sliding his eyes to the bed. Lemrina answered beginning with a gentle stroke of his hair and ending with the same hand cupped under his chin, lifting his gaze to hers so that he could see the wisp of a smile. She nodded.

She moved as best she could to fit his hold as he gathered her up from her chair. Then she let herself go limp in his arms on the way to the bed, giving him her full weight. If he hadn’t been ready to do all this work, he would have wheeled her closer first. He walked with precision, and when Lemrina snuck a look at his face, his eyes were cloudy and fixed on their destination. It was too easy to imagine his thoughts were on carrying someone else to that spot. But would he handle _her_ with such manufactured smoothness? Would he not even look at _her_ when he carried her?

_This is fine_ , Lemrina thought. _As long as it helps him forget that I’m not her, it doesn’t matter to me._

She held onto that thought, in an attempt to drive away the ache that threatened her whenever she saw the way he looked at her sister. She held it until they reached the bed, and while he focused on settling her. He made sure her head and back were comfortable, unhooked her legs and straightened them in front of her. By the time he reached her feet to slip off her shoes, she had made her decision.

Lemrina couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her when Slaine looked back up, when he saw the long blonde hair flowing over the bodice of the billowing white dress. (It wasn’t the right outfit for the occasion, but it was the only outfit of hers that Lemrina knew.) The way his eyes sparked, far from cloudy now; his cheeks colored; and a strangled noise died in his throat. It was so genuine in contrast to the way he had been until now, Lemrina felt as if she could forget for a moment that she wasn’t the girl he saw.

“Slaine,” she coaxed in what she hoped was a convincing imitation of the voice Asseylum would use.

_Imitation._ The moment of forgetting was lost. It was lost to Slaine as well, she knew, for he shut his eyes tight and clenched his jaw. His face was still flushed, but his expression made it obvious that the coloring now came from anger. “Don’t,” he cautioned.

“But this is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Not–!” was all he managed to spit out before choking on his words. _Not if it’s just a substitute_ , Lemrina silently filled in. So that was it. There hadn’t been a bit of kindness in what she had done after all. How could giving him a vision he would never see in reality be anything but cruel? She wanted to keep doing it. She knew she couldn’t. She willed the glamour to fade and told him with her own voice to open his eyes.

“Lemrina,” he said. “Please forgive me for any impression I gave of wanting that. I only wanted… I want to do this for _you_.”

That last sentence was so bloated with pity, Lemrina could have slapped him. Slaine thought she was the one who deserved pity? _Can’t you see it’s me who’s doing this for you? Even if looking the part is too much for you, I’m still here in place of my dear sister._ And a substitute had no need for pity.

But doing it for him meant humoring him, too, so she smiled and ran her fingers over the buttons on his coat. “Of course I forgive you.”

His pants came off after the coat, leaving him in his blouse and undershirt. She was sure he didn’t need to be told why she hesitated with those. But he insisted it was up to her. _So you’re still trying to make it about me_. She began furiously unbuttoning his blouse, desperate to expose those reminders of the pain he had lived through, to gain leverage over his pity for her. As the last button came undone and the shirt slid down his shoulders, Lemrina willed tears to her eyes and wished she were more surprised at how easy it was.

She had been so preoccupied with her work and her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed when the square bit of foil had appeared in his hands. But of course; Slaine didn’t know that ever since she reached adolescence Lemrina had been given her own pills “in case of an accident” ( _in case you take after your father and mother,_ she knew they meant). And extra protection couldn’t hurt, but… had he brought it because he had planned this? Or did he carry it in his pocket all the time, _in case of an accident? In case of_ – an image of bright green eyes opening in a tank flashed through her mind – _that?_

Yes, what a _pity_ it would be if he had been holding onto it for that. _A pity for you and a triumph for me_. With that in mind, she waited patiently while he put it on, although in truth she was eager to be undressed – to implicitly, wordlessly throw the choice of how much clothing to remove back at him.

She watched with anticipation when he slid her skirts up, bunching the fabric around her legs. He stopped above her hips, slipped an experimental fingertip inside her waistband, and tugged downwards. A cold weight hit her in the stomach despite the heat between her legs and all over her face. Was he choosing to leave her dress on… because he wanted to? Or because he thought she wanted him to? And what did it matter? _It shouldn’t matter. I don’t want anything except to pity you more than you pity me—_

“There’s a zipper here,” she heard herself say. She grabbed Slaine’s free hand and lifted it to the top of her outer dress.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m no good at this. I didn’t want to be too f-forward.”

Forward. _Don’t you mean disloyal?_ That was her immediate response, and it came from the same place as the cold spot inside her. But something stopped her from saying it aloud as she looked down at him with his arm still stretched up to where she had placed it, felt his heartbeat pounding against her thigh, saw the look on his face that suggested he would have been turning even redder if he could. Poor Slaine. She had pushed him too hard.

“Are you nervous?” She spoke gently, warmly. “It’s all right. So am I. But Slaine… this is for you, too. So don’t force yourself.” She stroked the hand on her chest and released it. “Do as much or as little as _you_ want.”

She wished there were some way she could be certain that was just what he was doing when he fumbled and grasped the zipper, when he kissed the place it had rested while he dragged it down… and when he kissed it again after he had removed the rest of her clothes.

But all she was certain of was that he did all the things one was _supposed_ to do. “Tell me if it hurts. Let me know if you want to stop.” What was more, he looked her in the eyes the whole time. He did everything he was supposed to, as if the tears streaming down his face weren’t there at all.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she lied. “I feel… I feel so _good_.” It was the truth.


End file.
